Crush
by Digitallace
Summary: Harry has a crush, and he has it bad, but the object of his desire couldn’t possibly return his feelings. Could he? Warnings for explicit content.


Author's Note: So, I didn't use a beta on this one because it was just a short, spontaneous story, so forgive me if I've overlooked any errors.

**Crush**

Poetry was by no means Harry Potter's strong suit, in fact, quite the opposite could be said for his literary talent in any areas where rhyming was involved, or written word of any kind for that matter. Harry had a hard enough time listing potion ingredients correctly, making sure they were spelled right and that his handwriting wasn't so atrocious that he couldn't read them later when he needed to. It wasn't necessarily something he was proud of but it certainly didn't keep him up at night either. So, then why was every thought that flitted through his head of late comparing the features of his archrival to delicate flowers or other girlish things?

It was rather agonizing to have come to the realization that he had a crush on Draco Malfoy. It might not have been so bad if not for the fact that Malfoy was a horrid git who constantly made fun of him and his friends, or if Malfoy weren't the son of a Death Eater, or the Godson to Harry's least favorite professor in Hogwarts, or if his choice of friends wasn't made based on how well they might provide a solid wall for him. It might help matters, for Harry's own piece of mind, if Draco had been another person altogether, perhaps a Gryffindor boy who happened to look exactly like the Slytherin prince, but unfortunately his crush was only for Malfoy, and Malfoy alone.

Worse yet, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that the blond knew about his perverse feelings and was secretly taunting him about it, which to Malfoy's credit was far preferred over openly taunting Harry about it. It was probably the staring that had clued Malfoy in on it to begin with. Harry couldn't help it though, it wasn't his fault that the Slytherin's hair could shine like unfiltered sunlight on a summer day, or that his skin looked delectable when it was flushed from the overexertion of flying, or that his pink tongue often darted out to moisten his lips when he thought no one else was looking.

Harry found himself frequently catching on to the little gestures like that. The way Malfoy gently tucked his hair behind his ears when it fell into his face while reading or leaning over a bubbling cauldron. The way his nostrils flared dramatically when he was holding back a snide remark, which Harry was shocked to note happened quite often. As mean and ornery as the Slytherin was, it seemed the boy made a conscious effort to curb it around everyone but him – a fact Harry was secretly delighted over. Just the simple knowledge that Malfoy remained true to himself around Harry made the boy light as a feather.

He didn't know why he'd started crushing on the blond, but he could remember the precise moment when he'd noticed it.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin students had been sharing the Quidditch pitch for practice, both he and Malfoy fought furiously for the Snitch, and even though there were no points attached to their game, both boys had a silent understanding that it was being treated as if there were. Harry wanted nothing more than to grab the Snitch from the air right in front of Malfoy's angry face and he was sure that Malfoy wanted the same small victory just as much.

They were racing through the air, neck-in-neck, spinning and diving and twirling in and out of the other players on the field. When Harry spotted it at last, just a golden gleam in the distance, he sped up, easily overtaking the Slytherin with his skilled flying. He relished the feeling of the breeze mussing his hair, and the look of clear dismay on the blond's face as he gave chase. He was so absorbed in his task that he overlooked the Bludger that was heading right for him.

It narrowly missed his body but the bulk of it crashed into the end of Harry's broom, sending it spinning out of control with Harry as its unwanted rider. His fingers strained from the pressure of trying to maintain his grip on the broom handle while it careened toward the stands, sending Harry on a kamikaze mission that would surely end in serious injury or worse.

Finally the erratic movement proved too much, and like an untrained rider on a wild stallion, Harry was thrown off. He remembered wincing as he prepared for impact, knowing full well that there was no time to draw his wand to lessen the fall, and praying to Merlin for a miracle. The miracle he got was rather unexpected, however.

His landing was abrupt, but far softer than it should have been had he crashed into solid ground. When he felt the air continue to whoosh through his hair, he opened his eyes and looked directly into a set of gray orbs he could have sworn he'd never seen before. They sparkled with humor and grace, their pewter color seeming much deeper than they could possibly be.

It wasn't until he yanked his own eyes away from the ones he'd locked with that the other features of his rescuer came into view. Blond hair, sharp nose, smirking lips. He groaned and blinked, trying to erase the image of Draco Malfoy cradling him against his body, but he couldn't seem to make it go away.

"You caught me?" Harry asked, still befuddled by the action of the boy he'd hated for years. "Why didn't you just let me fall?"

That trademark smirk quirked a bit in the corner as if Malfoy was attempting to stifle a laugh. "When we trounce Gryffindor next week I want it to be because I beat _you_ to the Snitch, not some shoddy stand in," he reasoned with a shrug, and if a shrug could be graceful while hovering twenty meters in the air and holding a boy roughly the same size and weight as himself, Malfoy managed it.

"How altruistic of you," Harry muttered, but he didn't have the time to remain indignant for long, because Malfoy fell into a sharp dive, and Harry found himself clinging to the boy's trim waist in order to stay on the broom. When they neared the ground they slowed and Malfoy chuckled darkly as he tossed Harry unceremoniously from his lap and onto the ground, which was by now less than a meter away. His body wasn't injured by such a short fall, but his mind felt broken beyond repair as he tried to piece together what he knew of the blond along with what had just happened.

It made no sense, even with Malfoy's crude explanation it was still out of place behavior for the Slytherin. The Malfoy he thought he knew would have been perfectly content to watch Harry fall to his death and not lose a wink of sleep over it. Shaking his head in dismay, Harry just wandered across the pitch in search of his mangled broom and waited for the rest of his team to stop their practice so he could wander off to the showers. He probably could have just left them up there buzzing around over his head, but he couldn't seem to peel away his gaze from the Slytherin Seeker and his swift maneuvers.

The boy was undeniably talented, but lucky for Harry, Malfoy wasn't as skilled on a broom as he was. Although – and it hurt tremendously for Harry to admit it to himself - Draco was far more elegant looking flying through the air than Harry could ever hope to be. The way his white-blond hair caught in the breeze, the way his lithe fingers gripped the handle, the way his arse hovered just over the shaft of the broomstick. Harry was getting chills as he watched him and realized with a sudden jolt that he found Malfoy to be attractive, and not just any brand of attractive, Draco Malfoy was scorching hot.

Now that he thought of it, Harry couldn't think of anyone as stunning as the blond Slytherin. The boy had grace and beauty carved into his very presence and every time Harry saw him, he noticed some new thing to admire. At first it was just general things like the way Malfoy's hair glistened as if it were made of something otherworldly, or the way his features seemed noble and almost kingly. Then came the more subtle things like the way his lips curved into a perfect pout when he didn't get his way, or the heavy-lidded expression he always had in History of Magic.

However, all this could be easily observed from a safe distance away and Harry didn't have to feel guilty about indulging in his newfound obsession. It wasn't until Harry noticed the blond's undeniably sexy swagger that Harry began to get warm whenever he looked at him, and even in his Malfoy intoxicated state, even he knew that didn't bode well. A Hogsmeade trip is what had done him in. Somehow fate had placed Malfoy, Pansy and Blaise directly in front of him, Ron and Hermione on their long walk down to the small station town. It was maddening for Harry as he watched Draco's arse in denims – a sight he hadn't had the pleasure of seeing since his obsession began. It was glorious, but _very_ distracting. Hermione must have chastised him a dozen times for not paying attention to her when she spoke.

Following the walk in those ungodly tight trousers, Harry was then forced to watch as Draco sipped from a foamy mug of Butterbeer, licking the froth from his top lip with a wide swipe of his tongue. It made his own trousers unbearably tight when he ran into Malfoy and his friends at the sweet shop. It should be illegal for Malfoy to do some of the things Harry spied him doing to an innocent ice cream cone, especially in public.

That tongue… Harry shuddered to think of it rolling around the creamy dessert, licking away an errant dribble with swift darting motions. He could easily picture that mouth doing similar things to his cock. Harry knew he had a problem from that moment. He knew that this crush of his was turning into something more harmful than just an innocent fantasy that he would never consider acting on, because he _was_ considering it.

In Potions, Harry began wondering if he could figure out a way to get the boy alone in the ingredients closet. In Charms he flipped through his book in search of something that might be useful in magically persuading Malfoy to follow him somewhere quite. In Care of Magical Creatures Harry began hoping that the animal they studied that day would injure the Slytherin so that he could volunteer to take him to the hospital wing. It was getting out of hand, and Harry had to put a stop to it before he managed to drag the hapless boy into a nearby classroom and have his way with him.

That was about the time when Malfoy seemed to catch on and started teasing him about his obsession. One afternoon in Transfigurations, Harry was staring at the back of Malfoy's head so hard he probably could have counted the stands of delicate hair. Hermione whispered something about their assignment from last night and Harry rummaged into his bag for the essay he'd written on the proper method to transfigure a cup into a small rodent and back again. When he looked back up, settling easily into his routine of staring at the blond, Malfoy was staring back at him, his lips curved in a delicate smirk.

Harry's cheeks flushed and his eyes immediately dropped to the parchment in front of him. Had Malfoy known he was watching? Could he possibly even know what Harry was thinking? No, Harry decided, even if the boy was adept at Legilimency, he would still feel the boy probing inside his mind.

Chancing another peek, Harry looked back up and saw that Draco was still watching him, having angled his chair so that he could better do so without looking very obvious. This time, when Draco caught Harry glancing at him, the blond winked. The simple action sent heat cascading through Harry's body to pool at his groin and he shifted uncomfortably, grateful that his robes would cover his erection.

He felt so conflicted for the rest of the day. His gaze kept drifting almost involuntarily up to the other boy only to find him staring right back. Every time it caused Harry to shiver with lust and every time he found himself wondering what the other boy was thinking. For the first time ever, Harry found himself wishing he'd paid attention in class when they went over mind reading instead of staring at the beautiful blond.

After that day the staring contests only continued. Through classes and meals, Quidditch practice and even the actual games, whenever Harry looked up, Malfoy was taunting him with his knowing gaze. Harry felt naked beneath the Slytherin's scrutiny, vulnerable and pathetic. Draco somehow knew that Harry fancied him, and that fact mortified him to no end. Having a secret crush on the boy and knowing that Malfoy was aware of his crush were two very different things and he wasn't sure what exactly to do about it.

It was his own fault really, and Harry knew that. He had let his mind wander to an unhealthy place, dipped his toes into the pool of debauchery and managed to slip and fall in with his clothes still on – the perfect target for teasing. Harry was no beauty to behold, not like Draco. He was fit, Quidditch and good genes helped with that, but otherwise he was a mess. His hair was all over the place, his glasses were constantly falling from his nose and he was just beginning to blossom into the kind of puberty that gave him sparse facial hair that made him look every bit the scruffy orphan that he was.

Even if Harry could somehow get past the fact that Malfoy was the son of a Death Eater, it's not like there was any relationship potential there…but perhaps there didn't have to be. Perhaps a good shag would rid Harry of his unseemly obsession once and for all, but as soon as that thought entered his mind, Harry knew he was in deep trouble.

It all came to a head one evening just before the holiday break. Harry was leaving the library alone, a tower of books in his arms, when he ran smack into Malfoy at the bottom of the staircase - quite literally.

"Well, if it isn't my own personal stalker," he mused, his mouth quirked into his trademark smirk.

"I'm not stalking you, Malfoy," Harry muttered. "I was just coming from the library."

"No need to get defensive, Potter. I never said I _minded _you stalking me," Malfoy quipped, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You –what?" Harry stammered, not sure he heard the boy correctly and not sure he was interpreting it correctly if he had.

Malfoy moved in close, causing Harry's books to topple over and crash to the ground as he leaned in to whisper against Harry's ear. Now, he had thought Malfoy's voice to be erotic even when calling his friends Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, but right then, his dulcet tones ghosting against his ear, _that _made him visibly shiver, which Malfoy seemed pleased by. "It's quite obvious that you fancy me, Potter," the boy whispered, carefully lining up every possible part of his body against Harry's. "The question is, what are you going to _do _about it?"

"Nothing," Harry replied resolutely and tried to shift out of the boy's grip. He failed of course - mostly because he wasn't actually trying very hard - and ended up staring into those mercury-fired eyes again.

The pout on Malfoy's face was delicate, almost sensual before spoke, his tone still hushed and intimate. "Well, that's no fun. Perhaps I could change your mind?"

Harry blinked, and it was all he had time to do before the pink tongue he'd been watching flick out between pearly teeth for weeks came out and claimed him. Draco's tongue slid effortlessly along Harry's bottom lip, followed by gently nibbling teeth that pulled his mouth against the blond's with savage force. When their lips met it was like burning and melting all at once. Harry's eyes closed as he drank in the scent of vanilla that seemed to exude from the Slytherin's pores and found his hand unerringly reaching for the other boy's waist.

Draco allowed him that, moaning lightly when Harry gripped him roughly and pulled him closer and Harry relished in the sound, a noise he hadn't been permitted to observe in classes or on the pitch. It made him wonder what other sounds he could pull from the blond's lovely throat. The fact that they were in an open stairwell, books strewn around their feet, and that anyone could simply walk up and find them entangled together was lost on both boys as they kissed.

When Draco's tongue sought entrance deeper into Harry's mouth the boy yielded, and at the same time felt lithe fingers card through his wild hair. He could drown in the Slytherin boy forever and be perfectly content, easily meeting a happy fate by dying at the hands of such desire.

He made a soft whimpering noise as Draco shifted, bringing their mutual erections closer together and Harry could feel the boy's lips smiling against his own right before he pulled away. He didn't go far; just tilted his head back enough to break the kiss, but Harry barely kept himself from frowning in disappointment. Harry noticed the pink flush to Draco's cheeks and how lust had darkened his eyes and his heart leapt. It seemed he wasn't the only one affected by their brief encounter.

"That was…" Harry mused, but didn't get to finish his thought before Draco interrupted him.

"Brilliant, wonderful, better than you imagined," Draco offered with a smirk.

Harry frowned at the prat's suggestions. All were true of course, but he didn't need to be so damned arrogant about it, and Harry had no intention of fueling that massive ego any further. "Adequate," he replied at last through pursed lips, as if it had taken him quite a bit of effort to even be that kind.

Draco's eye narrowed and his face set into a petulant frown. "Are you saying that you've had better?" he challenged angrily and Harry merely shrugged.

This seemed to only add fuel to Draco's fiery frustration and the boy gripped his shoulders and claimed his mouth once more. Harry nearly chuckled at the blond's insistence; he couldn't possibly be content at being second best at anything it seemed. This time the Slytherin used more teeth, pulling at his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth with passionate force. Harry was surprised to learn that he enjoyed the kiss just as much, if not more than the first. He'd hoped that finally grabbing his goal would have served to douse the flames growing within him, not fan them. Even Draco's arrogance a moment before hadn't done anything to quell his rising libido.

Those stunning pale hands were fisting in Harry's mane, trying to get him closer as Draco devoured his mouth. Harry felt so wanted, almost needed as the boy clung to him and tried to best his earlier performance. When he pulled away this time, they were both gasping for breath, their chests heaving with the effort of sucking down air.

"Well?" Draco pressed after he regained his haughty Malfoy composure a few moments. Harry secretly loved that he could fluster the blond in such a way, that just his ambivalence to their kiss could drive the blond mad.

"It was better," Harry offered, "but."

He didn't get any further than that before Draco nearly snarled at him. "Impossible," he huffed. "It's simply impossible that you could have been kissed better than that."

"I hardly think that you would know one way or another, unless you've been stalking me back," Harry challenged, his eyebrows raised. It was easy to note the soft reddening of Draco's cheeks at the remark and Harry allowed himself a chuckle. "Have you?"

"Professional interest in ones enemy can hardly be considered stalking, Potter," he quipped, but the blush was still evident on his pale features.

"Oh? Do you always pin your enemies to banisters and snog the hell out of them?" Harry goaded with a manic grin. He loved cornering the Slytherin, catching him in his own traps.

"Hah!" Draco shouted as he gripped the front of Harry's robes roughly. "You _did_ enjoy it!"

"I never said that I didn't," Harry corrected, deflating the boy's enthusiasm somewhat. "But perhaps you simply need practice," he suggested casually, as if it were an afterthought.

Draco wasn't fooled though, his lips curled into a smug grin and he leaned in as though he was going to kiss Harry again, only to pull away as soon as the boy's eyelids fluttered shut. "If it wasn't utterly preposterous for a Gryffindor to be sneaky, I might think that you're trying to trick me into kissing you again."

"Your opinions of others is too close-minded if you think it's impossible for me to be underhanded," Harry rebuked.

"Right, I suppose now you're going to tell me that you were almost sorted into Slytherin," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Harry merely laughed and bit his tongue. If the other boy wanted to think he was some doltish Gryffindor, let him. It would only serve to surprise Draco later when the boy underestimated him and it came back to bite him in that delectable arse. "Now you're just being ridiculous," he commented instead. "Could you imagine _me_ in Slytherin with _you_? We'd be in the same dorm, so close we'd be practically sharing a bed!"

The slight nostril flare and the nearly imperceptible widening of Draco's lust-filled eyes at that comment didn't go unheeded, in fact, Harry was starting to consider himself an expert on all things Malfoy.

"That would be an interesting switch. You and I might have even been friends," he mused. "Or more." The boy gazed at him from the stair below, angling his face so that all Harry could see were brilliant golden lashes fluttering up at him almost demurely. It made his pulse throb through him and his breath come in shallow gasps as he looked into those hooded eyes.

"But I was sorted into Gryffindor," Harry replied, breaking the spell. "And you hate Gryffindors."

He cringed slightly but immediately resumed his icy countenance, softened slightly by his words. "I might be willing to make an exception," he purred, running the tip of his index finger in slow, sensual circles along Harry's abdomen. "Only you hate Slytherins."

"Well," Harry offered, swallowing thickly, "if you're willing to make an exception, it would only be fair if I do too. We Gryffindors are generous that way."

"Mmm. I'm eager to discover just how _generous_ you are," he replied, glancing pointedly at Harry's straining groin.

Harry's entire body heated up at the boy's words and it took all his effort not to physically shudder. "It would only be once," Harry added hastily.

"Right. And we wouldn't tell anyone," Draco continued. "Not even Know-It-Alls or ginger side-kicks."

"A secret," Harry agreed.

"And afterward we'll go back to normal," Draco explained.

"Back to hating each other." Harry nodded, as if they were laying out the foundation to a sound plan. He hadn't been aware of the hungry eyes that had settled once more on his lips, or the fact that he had taken several steps to plant himself directly in front of the Slytherin once more until they were touching again and Harry was trying to fight off a shiver.

"We just have the one chance, so we'd better make it good," Draco whispered before capturing the brunet in another heated kiss.

"Temporary truce," Harry confirmed as his lips trailed to the shell of Draco's ear. The boy nodded as he moaned from Harry's touch, his throat vibrating beneath Harry's swollen lips.

"Not here," he said at last and Harry tore himself away with visible force, trying to collect himself as he nodded.

"Right. That would be…awkward," he agreed and grabbed Draco's hand as he tugged the boy along after him to the seventh floor, leaving the pile of books he'd dropped discarded and forgotten.

With the blond trailing behind him, Harry quickly paced in front of the empty expanse of wall at the end of the corridor and when the door emerged, Harry pulled the boy inside. A hot mouth was on his instantly as Draco pressed him into the backside of the door. Harry returned the kiss with fervor, savoring the flavor of Draco's succulent mouth as their fingers tore at one another's clothing. Robes were discarded in haste, followed quickly by their crisp white shirts, but Draco refused to relent control over Harry's red and gold tie, which he was using to pull the Gryffindor towards the bed that loomed in the center of the room.

Eventually Draco conceded when he realized it would mean exposing more of Harry's flesh. Draco snapped Harry's belt ominously as he pulled it free of Harry's trousers, but the sound only made Harry's cock twitch and his eyes light up. Draco lifted an eyebrow in amusement, obviously filing away Harry's reaction to the strap of leather for use later. Except there wasn't going to be a later, so Harry ignored the fact that Draco had so clearly picked up on his attraction to pain. After all, if the boy hadn't known that just from Harry's masochistic need to be here right now, he wasn't as clever as Harry had given him credit for.

When Draco's fingers went to the clasp on Harry's trousers, the pale digits brushed his skin, sending a shock of electricity through his body. He knew he should be wondering about a trap, concerned that Malfoy would run off and show this memory to all of his Slytherin friends, or even what his own friends would think were any of them to find out about his secret rendezvous with the Slytherin prince, but all Harry could think about was getting his enemy naked and making the boy scream his name.

Finally divested of all the obnoxious clothing that was getting in their way, Harry took a moment to absorb the angelic glory that was a nude and eager Draco Malfoy. As they stood there beside the bed, each awash in lust, Harry studied every inch of milky skin and flawless beauty until he could no longer keep himself from reaching out and touching all that loveliness.

His caresses started reverently, roaming the pale flesh beneath his fingers as if seeking the answers to all of life's questions, but when his mouth joined into the exploration, his ministrations began to grow more fervent. His lips and teeth sought out the dark pink nipples that stood out in sharp relief against all that creamy white, and he lathered the blond with attention, making him hiss and squirm. His hands coaxed the boy's hips toward the bed, where Harry maneuvered him slowly, climbing over and straddling Draco's long legs with his own.

A million times the image of Draco Malfoy unabashedly nude and sprawled across his bed had come unbidden into his mind, but no mere daydream could equal the truth of what that sight did to him. Everything inside Harry's body clenched and tensed, as if balanced on a teetering precipice that he wasn't ready to fall over just yet. He shifted on Draco's lap, just slightly to gain better access to the boy's mouth, but that simple movement rubbed their throbbing cocks together and caused Harry to throw his head back with a guttural moan.

The gleam in those stormy gray eyes seemed to indicate that Draco liked the sound, that and the fact that the very next moment had Draco reaching down to grasp their cocks together, each of them groaning at the delicious friction. "Fuck, Malfoy," he whined, fearing that any more stimulation might send him over the edge far sooner than he'd like. The Slytherin's breaths were coming out in shallow gasps as well, so he relented, acquiescing to Harry's hope that they might draw things out.

Draco sat up and toppled Harry over, looking rather triumphant for reversing their positions, but he wasted no time before soaking up his victory by grasping Harry's cock and taking it into his mouth. Harry hissed as the boy licked at the weeping slit, tasting him lingeringly before rolling his tongue around the head the same way he'd done with that ice cream cone in Hogsmeade. Just when Harry thought it couldn't get any better, the blond swallowed him and Harry could feel the tip of his prick graze the back of Malfoy's throat. He made an unintelligible noise that reverberated through his chest, sort of a moan, sort of a deep gurgle, but it had Draco smiling around the intrusion in his mouth as he began to move, bobbing up and down along the length as he took in every inch.

Harry was so lost in the sensation, his head thrown back and his eyes shut lazily against the pressure building in his groin, that he didn't notice Draco wetting his fingers with his own saliva until the first one tenderly caressed his entrance. With a start, his eyes flew open and he propped himself up on wobbly forearms, the sight of Draco's form so eagerly molesting him nearly drove him mad. He was so worked up, he didn't even register the pain of that first digit breaching his tight entrance, or the sharp burn as it moved up his channel only to pull out again. His breathing came laboriously with deep moans punctuating each puff of air while Draco fucked him with his narrow finger.

He was so close to exploding when the second finger entered him that the moment those lithe digits hooked inside him, and pressed firmly against his prostate, Harry tugged at Draco's tousled blond locks to warn him that his orgasm was eminent. To his surprise, Draco didn't even budge in his position, only sped up his movements.

When his climax took him, Harry couldn't to anything but shout a long stream of curses before he looked up to see Draco smirking down at him lecherously. That pink tongue darted out and licked his lips, as Harry had observed so many times before, but this time the movement held more weight and Harry could feel his groin tightening all over again as he watched his rival of several years swallow down his seed. It was almost enough to make him forgive the boy for all the nasty things he'd done in the past – almost.

He felt Draco's fingers slip out of his arse as the boy leaned up to claim Harry's swollen lips, letting him taste the bitter flavor that still coated his tongue and Harry groaned into his mouth. Draco chuckled as he pulled away, his eyes hooded and flaming with lust. "Who knew that Harry Potter would turn out to be such a little slut?" he mused and Harry narrowed his eyes. He decided that giving Draco any indicator that the name-calling turned him on would simply goad the boy into more of it.

Harry was ready to lunge for the Slytherin, thinking he might pull him to the mattress and give him a taste of his own medicine, except Draco chose that moment to enter him again, and this time – with the last remnants of his orgasm fading around the edges – it hurt. He hissed, but Draco didn't pause until he'd reinserted the two fingers he'd buried inside of Harry earlier. He wanted to protest, shout out that the burning was too much, but Draco hooked his fingers again and hit the spot that made Harry keen. "Mmm," Draco moaned as he watched Harry writhe at his touch. "See, you are my little slut. Look at you, you're already getting hard again."

"Just…shut…up," Harry moaned between heavy breaths, "and don't…stop."

Draco chuckled and took that as his queue to slip in a third finger, fucking Harry with them in long quick strides. It still wasn't enough though, and Harry tried to drive himself down on the digits, wanting to take more as his body thrummed in ecstasy. "Beg for it, Potter. I'll bet you're fucking delicious when you beg."

Harry didn't really care to oblige the blond, but as soon as Malfoy slowed his rhythm, Harry felt it was the lesser of two evils. He could beg Malfoy to fuck him so long as the boy didn't stop in mid-stroke and leave him there wanting.

"Please," Harry started, hardly able to get the words out around his hungry gasps, "Please fuck me, Malfoy."

"It's Draco, Harry. Call me Draco," he demanded, scissoring his fingers inside of him until Harry screamed it out.

"Draco! Fuck me now!" he begged.

The blond took a moment to preen in his victory before pulling his fingers out with grin as Harry whimpered from the loss. "You're such an obedient Gryffindor," he purred, reaching across the bed for his wand. "You should be rewarded."

"Yes," Harry groaned, drawing out the word as he fought with his body to be patient and not to seek out something, anything, to penetrate him again. Instead he reached down and stroked his renewed erection, grinning as he watched Draco's eyes flick to the movement and stare as if transfixed. He made it a show, rubbing his thumb over the head to spread the glistening fluid pooling there before sliding his fist down the shaft in a tight, languid stroke.

That pink tongue was once again wetting his lips before Draco tore his gaze away from the lurid display and locked his smoldering eyes onto Harry's. Harry kept stroking, but his own emerald orbs were all for Draco as the boy carefully slid inside him. As much as Harry wanted to keep his eyes open, wanted to watch Draco's face as he entered him, he couldn't help but shut his eyes tight at the intrusion, biting into his bottom lip to keep from crying out with whatever mixture of pleasure and pain was rocketing through his body. Once Draco had filled him, the burning lessened somewhat, and the blond began to move, pumping his hips in a steady rhythm that had Harry squirming beneath him. The moment Draco shifted, his cock brushing that delicious spot at Harry's core, the Gryffindor gasped and renewed stroking his pulsing erection. "Fuck, Draco," he shouted as he repeatedly pounded against that bundle of nerves. "Oh, gods!"

Draco was whispering a reverent chant as he picked up his pace, Harry's name ghosting across his lips with each slam of his hips. The steady stream of 'Harry, Harry, Harry, Fuck, Harry, Harry,' met the Gryffindor's ears, but he didn't even have a chance to lord it over the boy before he was coming again in a white hot stream, coating both of their chests with the sticky fluid.

He didn't know if it was the strangled screaming of Draco's name, the tightening of his arse as he came, or a combination of both, but Draco didn't last much longer before he shouted Harry's name one last time and bit roughly into the boy's leg as he braced himself for release. The idea of being filled was so satisfying to Harry that he didn't even care when the blond fell roughly against him and cut off his air supply.

"Brilliant," Draco gasped, his mouth set into a permanent grin. "Bloody brilliant."

When Harry didn't answer, Draco looked down at him with a frown and Harry gestured that he couldn't breath with the blond on top of him, so Draco chuckled and slid off of his chest, flopping as elegantly as a person can flop. "Yes, that was pretty brilliant," Harry admitted when he was able to suck down air again.

Silence grew between them as they both stared up at the glowing ceiling, watching stars that weren't really there zip around the room. "Is it really fair for us to deny ourselves something so brilliant?" Draco asked, putting on a mask of casual indifference.

Harry pursed his lips to keep from smiling. "Well, I suppose it would depend, really," he reasoned.

"Depend on what, exactly?" Draco's eyes were inquisitive, even if his face held none of that emotion.

"Well, would you treat your friends better if this were to become a regular occurrence?" Harry asked.

"It's possible I suppose, but I feel like I'm already quite generous by letting them near me at all," he replied, smirking slightly.

"Oh yes," Harry agreed huskily, "I certainly noticed how generous you are," he told the boy, echoing the innuendo from their earlier conversation. Draco chuckled, a deep satisfied sound and Harry sighed, sinking against him. "How about class assignments," Harry continued, "would you do any better with those?"

"Surely it would be easier to concentrate," Draco reasoned, staring into Harry's perfect emerald gaze. "And I'd imagine it would be a good way to release tension before a Quidditch game as well."

"That's a good point," Harry replied with mock seriousness. "And McGonagall is always going on about house unity."

"What could be more unified than this?" Draco asked, a pleasant smirk on his face.

"And we still wouldn't have to tell anyone," Harry assured the blond.

"Well, not everyone at least, perhaps just a few people," he adjusted and Harry beamed at him.

"Right, just a few close friends. It's not as though we'll be waltzing around the castle holding hands." Harry's heart swelled up from their logical banter, he could have parted from the blond after this blissful evening together, but he didn't truly want to. He was glad his Slytherin rival felt the same.

"Very often," Draco amended.

"Of course," Harry replied with a grin, "for instance, we couldn't possibly hold hands if we were in potions and had to use them both for something else."

"Exactly." Draco's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Like snogging in the ingredients cupboard."

Harry chuckled and pulled Draco to him, intending to press a chaste kiss against his lips until Draco wrapped his legs around him and pushed for more. The kiss heated up until both boys pulled away, panting with renewed lust and Harry sighed, sagging back into the pillows. "I'm too sore to go again right now, but I'd be happy to do something else," Harry told the boy, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he grabbed the Slytherin's growing erection.

Draco smiled but shook his head. "I'm spent," he sighed and curled up against Harry's side. "We should just go to sleep."

"You want to sleep here…with me?" Harry asked, his eyes widening slightly.

"Well, yes," Draco yawned, "that is, unless you snore."

"So, just to be clear, we're going to be sleeping together, holding hands in public, fucking and telling our friends…what are we telling them exactly?" Harry asked.

"We'll tell them that you had a crush on me and I gave in," Draco replied sleepily.

"You gave in, huh?" Harry's voice was thick with amusement and sarcasm.

"Okay, well I might have had a bit of a crush, too, but we don't have to tell anyone that," he whispered. "It can just be our little secret."

"Gryffindors aren't good at keeping secrets," Harry snickered.

"Apparently they are also terrible at hushing after sex," Draco teased, burying his head deeper into Harry's side.

"Are we a couple then?" Harry asked, ignoring Draco's mocking sigh of frustration.

"If by couple, you mean two people who have sex and spend time together and want to get to know one another better, then yes, Harry. We're a couple. Now go to sleep," he huffed.

Harry smiled to himself and waited until the blond's breathing grew even so it would irritate him all the more to have his sleep interrupted. "Okay, but next time I want to be on top."

"I'll let you fuck me right now if it would get you to _shut up_," Draco groaned, but the smile on his face was unmistakable. Harry kissed him lingeringly and they melted together before Harry pulled the covers over them both and snuggled in.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, pressing one last kiss into his lover's temple before falling into a restful slumber wrapped in Draco's tender embrace.

He didn't let the fact that Ron and Hermione would both explode from news that he was dating Draco Malfoy take away from the peaceful moment. They would no doubt want him checked for Dark Magic or sneaky love potions, because they would think his affection for the blond to be a sudden thing. Harry knew differently though. His crush for the boy had hollowed out a space in his heart that only Draco could fill, and he was just content the boy was both willing and eager to do so.

FIN

Author's Note: Yes, it was another sappy ending. I worked on this when I had to take a break from the Dark!Harry story I'm working on, but I think most of you secretly (and not so secretly) enjoy the cheese. Oh, and I think this might be my longest smut scene ever… I could be wrong, but it seems pretty long… lol.


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